Badger nose. Online reading of the book Badger nose Konstantin Georgievich Paustovsky

Konstantin Paustovsky
badger nose
The lake near the shores was covered with heaps of yellow leaves. There were so many of them that we couldn't fish. The fishing lines lay on the leaves and did not sink.
I had to go out on an old canoe to the middle of the lake, where water lilies were blooming and the blue water seemed black as tar.
There we caught colorful perches. They fought and sparkled in the grass like fabulous Japanese roosters. We pulled out a tin roach and a ruff with eyes like two small moons. The pikes caressed at us with their teeth as small as needles.
It was autumn in the sun and fog. Distant clouds and thick blue air could be seen through the swept forests. At night, low stars stirred and trembled in the thickets around us.
We had a fire in the parking lot. We burned it all day and all night long to drive away the wolves - they howled softly along the far shores of the lake. They were disturbed by the smoke of the fire and cheerful human cries.

End of free trial.

badger nose

The lake near the shores was covered with heaps yellow leaves. There were so many of them that we couldn't fish. The fishing lines lay on the leaves and did not sink.

I had to go on an old canoe to the middle of the lake, where water lilies were blooming and the blue water seemed black as tar.

There we caught colorful perches. They fought and sparkled in the grass like fabulous Japanese roosters. We pulled out a tin roach and a ruff with eyes like two small moons. The pikes caressed at us with their teeth as small as needles.

It was autumn in the sun and fog. Distant clouds and thick blue air were visible through the circled forests. At night, low stars stirred and trembled in the thickets around us.

We had a fire in the parking lot. We burned it all day and night long to drive away the wolves - they howled softly along the far shores of the lake. They were disturbed by the smoke of the fire and cheerful human cries.

We were sure that the fire frightened the animals, but one evening in the grass near the fire some animal began to sniff angrily. He was not visible. He was anxiously running around us, rustling through the tall grass, snorting and getting angry, but he did not even stick his ears out of the grass.

Potatoes were fried in a frying pan, there was a sharp tasty smell coming from it, and the beast, obviously, ran to this smell.

We had a little boy with us. He was only nine years old, but he tolerated spending the night in the forest and the cold of autumn dawns well. Much better than us adults, he noticed and told everything.

He was an inventor, but we adults loved his inventions very much. We could not, and did not want to prove to him that he was telling a lie. Every day he came up with something new: now he heard fish whispering, then he saw how ants arranged a ferry for themselves through a stream of pine bark and cobwebs.

We pretended to believe him.

Everything that surrounded us seemed unusual: the late moon shining over the black lakes, and high clouds, like mountains of pink snow, and even the usual sea noise of high walls.

The boy was the first to hear the snort of the beast and hissed at us to keep us quiet. We quieted down. We tried not even to breathe, although our hand involuntarily reached for the double-barreled shotgun - who knows what kind of animal it could be!

A small badger crawled out of the thickets. He folded his paw and looked at me carefully. Then he snorted in disgust and took a step towards the potatoes.

She fried and hissed, splashing boiling lard. I wanted to shout to the animal that he would burn himself, but I was too late - the badger jumped to the pan and stuck his nose into it ...

It smelled like burnt leather. The badger squealed and, with a desperate yell, threw himself back into the grass. He ran and shouted throughout the forest, broke bushes and spat out of indignation and pain.

Confusion began on the lake and in the forest. Without time, the frightened frogs yelled, the birds became alarmed, and near the shore, like a cannon shot, a pood pike struck.

In the morning the boy woke me up and told me that he himself had just seen a badger treating his burnt nose. I didn't believe.

I sat down by the fire and half-awake listened to the morning voices of the birds. In the distance, white-tailed waders whistled, ducks quacked, cranes cooed in dry marshes - msharas, fish splashed, turtledoves cooed softly. I didn't want to move.

The boy pulled my hand. He was offended. He wanted to prove to me that he wasn't lying. He called me to go see how the badger is being treated.

I reluctantly agreed. We carefully made our way into the thicket, and among the thickets of heather I saw a rotten pine stump. He smelled of mushrooms and iodine.

Near the stump, with its back to us, stood a badger. He opened the stump and stuck his burnt nose into the middle of the stump, into the wet and cold dust.

He stood motionless and cooled his unfortunate nose, and around him another little badger ran and snorted. He was worried and pushed our badger with his nose in the stomach. Our badger growled at him and kicked with his furry hind legs.

Then he sat down and wept. He looked at us with round and wet eyes, groaned and licked his sore nose with his rough tongue. He seemed to be asking for help, but there was nothing we could do to help him.

A year later I met a badger with a scar on its nose on the shores of this lake. He sat by the water and tried to catch the dragonflies rattling like tin with his paw. I waved to him, but he sneezed angrily in my direction and hid in the lingonberry bushes.

The lake near the shores was covered with heaps of yellow leaves. There were so many of them that we couldn't fish. The fishing lines lay on the leaves and did not sink.

I had to go out on an old canoe to the middle of the lake, where water lilies were blooming and the blue water seemed black as tar.

It was autumn in the sun and fog. Distant clouds and thick blue air could be seen through the swept forests. At night, low stars stirred and trembled in the thickets around us.

We had a fire in the parking lot. We burned it all day and all night long to drive away the wolves - they howled softly along the far shores of the lake. They were disturbed by the smoke of the fire and cheerful human cries.

The potatoes were fried in a frying pan, a sharp, delicious smell came from it, and the beast, obviously, came running to this smell.

We had a little boy with us. He was only nine years old, but he endured well nights in the forest and the cold of autumn dawns. Much better than us adults, he noticed and told everything.

We pretended to believe him.

Everything that surrounded us seemed unusual: the late moon shining over the black lakes, and high clouds, like mountains of pink snow, and even the habitual sea noise of tall pines.

A small badger crawled out of the thickets. He folded his paw and looked at me carefully. Then he snorted in disgust and took a step towards the potatoes.

She fried and hissed, splashing boiling lard. I wanted to shout to the animal that he would burn himself, but I was too late - the badger jumped to the pan and stuck his nose into it ...

Confusion began on the lake and in the forest. Without time, the frightened frogs yelled, the birds became alarmed, and near the shore, like a cannon shot, a pood pike struck.

In the morning the boy woke me up and told me that he himself had just seen a badger treating his burnt nose. I didn't believe.

The boy pulled my hand. He was offended. He wanted to prove to me that he wasn't lying. He called me to go see how the badger is being treated.

I reluctantly agreed. We carefully made our way into the thicket, and among the thickets of heather I saw a rotten pine stump. He smelled of mushrooms and iodine.

Near the stump, with its back to us, stood a badger. He opened the stump and thrust his burnt nose into the middle of the stump, into the wet and cold dust.

He stood motionless and cooled his unfortunate nose, while another little badger ran around and snorted. He was worried and pushed our badger with his nose in the stomach. Our badger growled at him and kicked with his furry hind legs.

A year later I met a badger with a scar on its nose on the shores of the same lake. He sat by the water and tried to catch the dragonflies rattling like tin with his paw. I waved to him, but he sneezed angrily in my direction and hid in the lingonberry bushes.

Since then I have not seen him again.

Badger nose - the story of Konstantin Paustovsky tells how a little badger foolishly burned his nose. The story was written in 1936 and is dedicated to the quiet forest Meshchersky region, its generous nature, modest inhabitants, gullible, fearless birds and animals. Read the story of Paustovsky K.G. with pictures can be found on this page of our website.

The story "Badger nose" read online

The lake near the shores was covered with heaps of yellow leaves. There were so many of them that we couldn't fish. The fishing lines lay on the leaves and did not sink.

I had to go out on an old canoe to the middle of the lake, where water lilies were blooming and the blue water seemed black as tar.

There we caught colorful perches. They fought and sparkled in the grass like fabulous Japanese roosters.

We pulled out a tin roach and a ruff with eyes like two small moons. The pikes caressed at us with their teeth as small as needles.

It was autumn in the sun and fog. Distant clouds and thick blue air could be seen through the swept forests. At night, low stars stirred and trembled in the thickets around us.

We had a fire in the parking lot. We burned it all day and night to keep the wolves away, howling softly along the far shores of the lake. They were disturbed by the smoke of the fire and cheerful human cries.

The potatoes were fried in a frying pan, a sharp, delicious smell came from it, and the beast, obviously, came running to this smell.

We had a little boy with us. He was only nine years old, but he endured well nights in the forest and the cold of autumn dawns. Much better than us adults, he noticed and told everything.

We pretended to believe him.

Everything that surrounded us seemed unusual: the late moon shining over the black lakes, and high clouds, like mountains of pink snow, and even the habitual sea noise of tall pines.

A small badger crawled out of the thickets. He folded his paw and looked at me carefully. Then he snorted in disgust and took a step towards the potatoes.

She fried and hissed, splashing boiling lard. I wanted to shout to the animal that he would burn himself, but I was too late - the badger jumped to the pan and stuck his nose into it ...

Confusion began on the lake and in the forest. Without time, the frightened frogs yelled, the birds became alarmed, and near the shore, like a cannon shot, a pood pike struck.

In the morning the boy woke me up and told me that he himself had just seen a badger treating his burnt nose. I didn't believe.

I sat down by the fire and half-awake listened to the morning voices of the birds. In the distance, white-tailed waders whistled, ducks quacked, cranes cooed in dry swamps - msharas, fish splashed, turtle doves cooed softly. I didn't want to move.

The boy pulled my hand. He was offended. He wanted to prove to me that he wasn't lying. He called me to go see how the badger is being treated.

I reluctantly agreed. We carefully made our way into the thicket, and among the thickets of heather I saw a rotten pine stump. He smelled of mushrooms and iodine.

Near the stump, with its back to us, stood a badger. He opened the stump and thrust his burnt nose into the middle of the stump, into the wet and cold dust.

A year later I met a badger with a scar on its nose on the shores of the same lake. He sat by the water and tried to catch the dragonflies rattling like tin with his paw.

I waved to him, but he sneezed angrily in my direction and hid in the lingonberry bushes.

Since then I have not seen him again.

Badger (text from the encyclopedia)

The badger lives in a hole, which he digs out of the blue.

On his paws he has long when, with which it is convenient to dig the ground. By evening, the hole is ready. At night, the badger is looking for food. He eats almost everything. In winter, the badger sleeps in a hole.

The hairline of the badger is smoothed, as if it had been brushed over.

Stories about autumn for children of primary school age. stories about autumn nature for elementary school. Stories for extracurricular reading in primary school. The story of the badger

Konstantin Paustovsky. badger nose

The lake near the shores was covered with heaps of yellow leaves. There were so many of them that we couldn't fish. The fishing lines lay on the leaves and did not sink.

I had to go on an old canoe to the middle of the lake, where water lilies were blooming and the blue water seemed black as tar. There we caught multi-colored perches, pulled out tin roach and ruff with eyes like two small moons. The pikes caressed at us with their teeth as small as needles.

It was autumn in the sun and fog. Distant clouds and thick blue air were visible through the circled forests.

At night, low stars stirred and trembled in the thickets around us.

We were sure that the fire frightened the animals, but one evening in the grass, by the fire, some animal began to sniff angrily. He was not visible. He was anxiously running around us, rustling through the tall grass, snorting and getting angry, but he did not even stick his ears out of the grass. Potatoes were fried in a frying pan, there was a sharp tasty smell coming from it, and the beast, obviously, ran to this smell.

A boy came to the lake with us. He was only nine years old, but he tolerated spending the night in the forest and the cold of autumn dawns well. Much better than us adults, he noticed and told everything. He was an inventor, this boy, but we adults were very fond of his inventions. We could not, and did not want to prove to him that he was telling a lie. Every day he came up with something new: now he heard fish whispering, then he saw how ants arranged a ferry for themselves across a stream of pine bark and cobwebs and crossed in the light of an unprecedented night rainbow. We pretended to believe him.

Everything that surrounded us seemed unusual: the late moon, shining over the black lakes, and high clouds, like mountains of pink snow, and even the usual sea noise of tall pines.

Half an hour later, the beast stuck out a wet black nose, resembling a pig's snout, out of the grass. The nose sniffed the air for a long time and trembled with greed. Then a sharp muzzle with black piercing eyes appeared from the grass. Finally, a striped skin appeared. A small badger crawled out of the thickets. He folded his paw and looked at me carefully. Then he snorted in disgust and took a step towards the potatoes.

She fried and hissed, splashing boiling lard. I wanted to shout to the animal that it would burn itself, but I was too late: the badger jumped to the pan and stuck its nose into it...

Confusion began on the lake and in the forest: frightened frogs screamed without time, the birds were alarmed, and at the very shore, like a cannon shot, a pood pike struck.

In the morning the boy woke me up and told me that he himself had just seen a badger treating his burnt nose.

I didn't believe. I sat down by the fire and half-awake listened to the morning voices of the birds. In the distance, white-tailed waders whistled, ducks quacked, cranes cooed in dry swamps - msharas, doves cooed softly. I didn't want to move.

The boy pulled my hand. He was offended. He wanted to prove to me that he wasn't lying. He called me to go see how the badger is being treated. I reluctantly agreed. We carefully made our way into the thicket, and among the thickets of heather I saw a rotten pine stump. He smelled of mushrooms and iodine.

Near the stump, with its back to us, stood a badger. He opened the stump and stuck his burnt nose into the middle of the stump, into the wet and cold dust. He stood motionless and cooled his unfortunate nose, while another little badger ran around and snorted. He was worried and pushed our badger with his nose in the stomach. Our badger growled at him and kicked with his furry hind legs.

Since then, the lake - it used to be called Nameless - we have nicknamed Stupid Badger Lake.

And a year later I met a badger with a scar on its nose on the shores of this lake. He sat by the water and tried to catch the dragonflies rattling like tin with his paw. I waved to him, but he sneezed angrily in my direction and hid in the lingonberry bushes.

Since then I have not seen him again.